The Itch
by Your Destructive Fever
Summary: Sirius has an itch & he receives advice, of a sort, from an unexpected source. SiriusRemus. Siriuscentric.


"I have an itch," announced Sirius Black somewhat melodramatically nearing the close of a particularly monotonous Transfiguration lesson.

"Scratch it," suggested his best friend, one James Potter.

"Not that sort of itch," replied Sirius, enigmatically.

"Well, go and see Madam Pomfrey then and please, spare me the details. There are some things about you I just don't want to know," replied an equally enigmatic James, shaking his head.

"Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, any more of your chatter and it will be a week's detention," cautioned Professor McGonagall, sternly as she paced the classroom.

"Sorry, Professor," chanted the two boys in unison. Yet, barely waiting for McGonagall to direct her attention elsewhere; Sirius stated to James, "It's not that sort of an itch either."

"Well perhaps, Mr. Black, you can figure out what sort of itch is ailing you during your detention this afternoon," interrupted the strict voice of McGonagall, again.

"To be entirely honest Professor, that won't help in the slightest. I already know what the cause of the itch is; the problem is getting rid of said itch," said Sirius, directing his gaze to McGonagall.

"Snivellus didn't hex you, did he?" questioned James, sharply.

"Do you want to join Mr. Black in detention, Mr. Potter?" inquired McGonagall.

"No Professor, sorry. I'm just concerned for Sirius, that's all."

"Don't be James, and it's definitely not _that_ sort of an itch."

"Mr. Black!" warned McGonagall.

"Sorry Professor, I was just trying to assuage James's worries."

"I find that highly unlikely, Mr. Black."

"Aren't you concerned as to the nature of my itch, Professor?" declared Sirius, with a sigh.

"No, I am not, Mr. Black. I presume it's been caused by one of your juvenile actions and is thereby justly deserved. Now I advise silence unless you'd like another day of detention to give you time to think about finding a solution to your itch."

"That's actually the rub of it, Professor. I suspect that my itch, deep, profound and not at all juvenile, is easily solved. But the one person with the power to, if you pardon the implications, scratch my itch isn't available to do the scratching."

"I suggest you find this person, Mr. Black, and have him or her rid you of your itch, especially if it will prevent you from further interrupting my lessons."

"Another problem there, Professor. I can't exactly get this person to uh, scratch my itch, as it were."

"And why is that Mr. Black?" said McGonagall, frowning, "though I severely doubt my own sanity for asking."

"Well, I'm not sure how I'd go about telling this person about the um, precise manner of my itch and about how they're the uh, focus of it."

"You're talking in riddles, Mr. Black."

"May I speak frankly for a moment, Professor?" asked Sirius, almost beseechingly.

"Proceed."

"Well, the thing is, I've been feeling all these...feelings."

"Feelings, Mr. Black?"

"Feelings. Feelings of a decidedly romantic nature. Romantic feelings that I simply cannot rid myself of and this intense, this absolutely intense want for Remus Lupin."

"And what do you intend to do about these feelings, Mr. Black?"

"I don't know, Professor. I have this itch for him, this itch to tell him of my itch and this itch to do things to him that I refuse to tell you about because I have to draw the line somewhere."

"Believe me, Mr. Black, you crossed that line the very day you first entered Hogwarts. But I thank you for this small courtesy, nonetheless."

"You're welcome, Professor."

"As for you inclinations towards Mr. Lupin, I strongly suggest you find him and tell him of your feelings and intentions before any of your peers get the chance."

Sirius looked around in bafflement as if only just remembering the presence of his classmates.

"_Bloody hell, _Professor! I suppose that would be an advisable course of action."

"Language, Mr. Black...and, Sirius, I do believe you may find Mr. Lupin to receptive to your..._feelings_."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

"Thank you, Professor," replied Sirius with a grin which threatened to dominate his entire presence.

"Indeed. We'll leave the detention for another day, Mr. Black. Class dismissed."

"You don't things by halves, do you Padfoot?" commented James as he and Sirius left the classroom, "still it makes things interesting. Though I have to admit, sometimes I worry about the world we live in, you have an itch... only Remus can scratch it... I find out my bestest buddy is gay when he cames out of the closet to our Transfiguration's Professor, dear old Minerva... who, scarily, was actually being almost nice _to you,_ of all people...there's all these Death Eater blokes popping up and killing folk... McGonagall was nice...it boggles the mind, mate, it really does."


End file.
